


An Indoor Rainfall

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [253]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 12:11:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10513512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: Our lads' new shower gets steamy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Emila-Wan and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3   
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia
> 
> References:  
> [B.J. Thomas:Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head Lyrics](http://lyrics.wikia.com/wiki/B.J._Thomas:Raindrops_Keep_Fallin%27_On_My_Head)  
> [Saying Please, Thank You, and You're Welcome in Irish Gaelic](http://www.bitesize.irish/blog/polite-phrases-in-irish/)
> 
> Arcadian references:  
> [Hot Tub Heaven](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8698372)  
> [A Continent Away](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4312140)
> 
> To all of my friends on MA and AO3

"Raindrops keep falling on my head."

Ian sang happily after turning on the water. He showed his usual knack for choosing a song which was perfect for the occasion.

His beautiful tenor voice sounded even mellower to Quinn when they were taking a shower. Nowadays, Ian sang more in here than he did at the piano in the living room, and Quinn loved every second of it. Ever since they'd had the hot tub and rainfall shower head installed this past November, their bathroom had become an oasis for two, complete with Ian's impromptu serenades, since the acoustics were so sublime.

It was the evening of Wednesday, March 22nd, only a couple of days before spring break, and they had decided to wash away the tensions of lectures and essays with their own little waterfall. They were surrounded by a mosaic of cobalt blue and aquamarine tiles, while the flooring was covered almost completely by a huge seafoam-green rubber mat. The tiles, along with the blue and green waves of the curtain, were refracted into prismatic splendor by the glass blocks at the entrance. The bathroom was bathed in the light of one 40-watt soft-white bulb, because they always turned down the lighting when romance was on the menu.

Quinn stood tall under the rainfall shower head; he no longer had to duck his head when he was directly underneath it, thanks to their renovations, which had moved the shower head up five inches. Ian also benefited from the change; he and Quinn could now stand under the stream of water together and both get soaked. Much better than taking turns.

They'd also installed a handheld shower head that could be used both mounted on the wall and detached. Not to mention changing their bathroom vanity, so they now had twin sinks to make life easier, especially on busy weekday mornings. They'd picked out a solid cherrywood cabinet with a cream-colored marble top, which gave them extra storage space, as well.

So they had a more sumptuous bathroom at home than they'd be able to get on most vacations. And these additional little luxuries really paid off for Quinn, in particular. Over the years, he had become used to squeezing himself into a small bathtub, or slouching down to take a shower. Now, he could spread out his full frame, with plenty of room to spare.

Ian noticed further advantages, too. He had a more relaxed Quinn to play with these days, at ease with himself and the galaxy around him. Ian used to massage away tight muscles on his herven as a matter of course; now, the massages had become all but unnecessary, except as treats.

And Ian reaped other benefits, as well. Gymnastics was hard on the body -- a demanding discipline even for teenagers, let alone their thirty-something assistant coach. So a soak in the hot tub or a long, hot shower was just what he needed after a workout, especially on the still rings or high bar, which tended to be tough on the shoulders, in particular.

Because they had been interrupted in the hot tub the first time they'd used it, Ian had turned off their cell phones ever since, to make sure that never happened to them again. And the puppies were already asleep in their baskets for the night, the C-3PO night light shining softly on velvety fur. They were all locked up for the night. Nothing and no one could disturb the men now.

They faced each other with a thrill of anticipation -- when they took showers together, they almost always needed to get clean again right before they stepped out. That's why they sometimes preferred making love in the shower, even over their comfortable king-sized bed.

The process of scrubbing each other clean was a sensual delight, one that had not lessened through the years. They used the Sequoia Grove Company's fragrance-free organic shampoo and liquid soap, a brand they'd discovered on their working vacation to UC Berkeley back in 2010. Wintertime had just ended two days ago, and they'd gone through the whole season with hands on the verge of chapping. So their winter-dry skin drank in the luxurious lather from the organics, and they could feel the difference instantly.

Their height difference made it easy for Quinn to wash Ian's hair, running his fingers through water-darkened copper strands and working up a proper lather, until Ian's hair stuck out like the quills of a baby porcupine. Then he scooped up a handful of extra lather from his lad's head and used it on his own hair, relishing the intimacy of sharing everything with Ian, right down to his shampoo.

Ian ran soapy hands over his herven's chest and stomach, easy for him to reach in this position. He loved Quinn's little murmurs of enjoyment as he swept over a huge expanse of skin. Ian just had to have a kiss now, so he tilted his head into the perfect kissing position. And of course Quinn granted his wish. Scrubbing Quinn's back was just as romantic, because Ian had to embrace him to get there.

Meanwhile the lather on Ian's hair started dripping down his body, and Quinn rubbed it into his skin, using it as soap. It looked like he wouldn't need his own toiletries today. Soapy skin pressed into soapy skin in a slick caress. So now, their upper bodies were clean. Ian followed the pathway of the water to Quinn's groin, then pretended to consider....

"Hmmmm, should I use soap or shampoo on your hair down here?" Ian teased Quinn verbally, but then added a physical tease, as well, when he brushed coarse chestnut curls with a fingertip. "What's your pleasure?" he purred.

A shiver ran through every single inch of Quinn's huge body. He canted his hips forward, hoping to encourage Ian's touch. "Shampoo," he breathed, knowing it would be slicker over his cock and balls.

Ian grinned in anticipation. "I like the way you think." He braced Quinn carefully against the wall of the shower enclosure, his feet securely on the mat. Then he poured a bit of the forest-green liquid and put the bottle back on the shelf. Gazing into Quinn's eyes, he began rubbing it into his husband's pubic hairs, letting his thumb give an occasional brush to Quinn's penis, which was filling magnificently. "Mmmmmmm," he hummed, delighted to see that he had such a delectable effect on his husband. 

"So good," Quinn said on a moan. He was glad to have the wall supporting him, because he felt a little bit giddy already, thanks to Ian's loving ministrations.

"That's the idea," Ian quipped, with an indulgent smile. "And you'll like this even better," he said, just as he started to slide his hand down Quinn's groin, from the base of his cock to the tip.

Quinn gasped. Trust Ian to surprise him. He pressed into the loving touch, knowing his laddie would always take care of him.

And he did. Ian cradled his balls, smoothing the liquid silk of the shampoo over them, then returned his attentions to Quinn's cock, now fully erect and all but jumping into his hand.

By now, Quinn was convinced that Ian's touch was just as necessary to his survival as the air surrounding them. He thrust into the haven of Ian's palm, feeling his strong, gymnast's fingers slide over him, bringing him ever closer to paradise. He couldn't form words anymore, but his groans and grunts said it all nonetheless.

Ian kept up the sublime pressure, just right, even when Quinn swooped down to capture his mouth, while the first splashes of cream flew onto his stomach, warmer than the water cascading over them. He held Quinn through the aftershocks and crooned when he melted into his arms.

You could practically see the currents of the Living Force dancing between them in joy.

After he could talk again, Quinn said, "Ah, laddie, 'twas sublime. Go raibh maith agat." (Thank you.) His voice, rough with his pleasure, rumbled into Ian's ear. He nuzzled into wet copper strands with a besotted smile; by now, all of the shampoo had been rinsed away, just like his come. He felt a polite nudge against his thigh, which made his smile deepen. He also felt Ian's pre-come, which was painted in free-form strokes on his skin, only to be washed away as everything else had earlier.

"Such a civilized lad, even when you're achin' for me," said Quinn, his voice as gentle as the kiss he gave to Ian's forehead. "Ennathin' you want, now, darlin'." He touched the tip of his lad's cock tenderly, with a thumb as wide as two of Ian's fingers put together.

Ian shuddered deliciously against him. "Your hand," he forced out, finding it hard to talk already. Now it was his turn to lean against the tiles and plant his feet into the mat, as if he had just finished a tumbling run with a stuck landing. A 10.0 routine, as befit the 1999 NCAA high-bar gold medalist.

Quinn made him wait a bit for his touch; he remembered the roaring orgasm he'd given Ian just last week, using one of their new little luxuries. With a mischievous smile, he turned the handheld shower head to the massage setting and sent pulses of water pouring onto Ian's reddening cock and balls. When Ian shouted in surprise and pleasure, Quinn's smile widened. He held his hand steady, even as Ian writhed into him under the stream. If he hadn't had an orgasm less than five minutes ago, Ian's wriggling hips would have made him come now.

"Feels so good," Ian gasped out. "Wanna feel you, too."

Before the end of Ian's second sentence, Quinn grabbed his husband's cock in his left hand, while keeping the spray of water going with his right. Quinn's eyes shone when Ian cried out something incoherent, and his head came to cradle into the join between Quinn's neck and shoulder. Quinn understood his husband perfectly. His feet dug into the rubber mat, because his hands were too blissfully occupied to support him. He ran his fingertips over all of Ian's hot spots, letting the water caress him there, as well. It was almost like using a Force touch to pleasure his lad.

Since Ian had gotten excited when he was teasing Quinn to orgasm, he was almost on the edge already, and when Quinn decided to flick the setting to 'Flood', that was it. He came into Quinn's hand, shaking and babbling. He was a glorious mess for a moment, despite the best efforts of the rainfall shower head.

Quinn clamped the handheld shower head back on the wall, so he could hold his husband with both hands, taking him into his sheltering arms. He kept the water on long enough to wash the cream away, then reached for the towel rack to hand a sky-blue towel to Ian. Grabbing an emerald-green one for himself, he quickly dried his hair and skin, and took the towel from Ian to finish drying him. The copper spikes of his hair seemed to soak up water like a sponge.

Both of them put the towels over their shoulders as they left the shower to catch errant water droplets. They rubbed their feet into the deep-pile bathmat to dry them thoroughly. Quinn chuckled when Ian started a spontaneous game of footsie with him, as they held on to the towel rack for balance. They both won.

Ian picked up the rubber mat and hung it over the safety bar to dry overnight, while Quinn used an old, frayed towel to wipe down the tiles. They couldn't even see themselves in the mirror on their way past it, because it was so fogged-over with condensation from the high humidity. It was definitely steamy in here.

"Best money we've ever spent," said Ian, waving at the hot tub and shower, before he turned off the light. "Feels like we're newlyweds again." He ran his towel through his hair once more, then threw it over a chair. He got into his side of the bed with a happy sigh, pulling the comforter up to his chin.

Quinn beamed at him as he did the same. "Actually, the best money we've ever spent is on those train tickets to Massachusetts for our Tolkien symposium." Their bed felt warm and cozy, especially after drops of water had cooled on them when they left the shower.

"You got that right," Ian said. "Hard to imagine us meeting otherwise. Different universities, different states, different stages of our careers. Different worlds."

"'Twas a miracle, m'lad," Quinn said. "Nothing will ever convince me otherwise." He pulled Ian into one of their favorite sleeping positions, with Ian cuddling into his side, his head on Quinn's chest.

"I think so too," whispered Ian, teasing Quinn's chest hairs as he snuggled even closer.

The stars outside their bedroom window seemed to shine a little bit brighter in agreement.


End file.
